


Daryl's Resume

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Creative plan to get a date, Daryl is a dork, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Nervous Daryl, Pining, resumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:30:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8465401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: Daryl meets with a Career Adviser to discuss the possibility of finding something less "covered in oil all day" and more "upstanding in a tie and cologne".   The reason why?  Well, he's trying to catch someone's eye, of course.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TWDFAN33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDFAN33/gifts).



> Quick impromptu ficlet as a thank you to TWDFAN33 for helping me with my Resume and Cover Letter today!
> 
> Unbeta'd cause I wanted to post tonight and I'm getting ready to go to bed! :-)

“My brother Merle,” the woman from the Career Center read. She pushed her glasses up on her face a bit and resituated herself in her chair. “So is that like… a garage or like a company?” she asked.

Daryl sat across from the big wooden desk with the Denise Cloyd name plaque on it and bit at a thumbnail. “No, ma’am. That’s my brother. Merle.”

Denise nodded and cocked her head a bit as she continued to read. “So it says here that you managed the beverage inventory? Does that mean you bought him beer?”

Daryl nodded. “Well, yeah. I bought it and unpacked it and made sure to keep an eye on when we was low. Took care of restocking. You know, that kinda thing.” He started bouncing his knee nervously.

“Okay. I see. And Eddie’s? Was that a bar?”

“Aw, no. That was Eddie’s,” Daryl answered, then noticing Denise’s continued confusion he added, “From down the street.”

“And what is it you did for Eddie?” 

Daryl pointed at the resume she was holding. It was smudged with some oil and dirt from the garage. “I procured items at the most competitive rate in order to increase supply and keep expenses down. See- it says right there.”

“That sounds… I mean no offense… it just might sound a little too much like stealing?” she said, pitching her voice up at the end like an apology.

Daryl didn’t respond so Denise looked back at the resume. “Now this here, I guess this is what’s confusing me most of all. Dale and Axel’s Automotive.”

“Well, shit, Denise. That’s the easiest one to understand,” Daryl said. “Shit. Sorry. I mean, yes, ma’am. That’s the garage I currently work at. Ma’am.”

Denise adjusted her glasses again. “I’m fairly certain I’m younger than you. No need to ma’am me. Denise is fine.”

“Yes, ma’am. Shit. Denise.”

“So, Daryl. Here at this office? Where I work? We help people get their resumes together because they are unemployed. This says you’ve been working at Dale and Axel’s for ten years and you are still there?”

“Well, yeah. But I wanna find somethin’ a little more upstandin’. Like where you ain’t gotta get dirty all day. And maybe like… wear a tie… or can wear cologne or some shit like that.”

Denise covered her mouth with a hand to suppress her smile. “Daryl you are gainfully employed.” She read over the experience he had listed under his garage job out loud. “Specialize in servicing brakes and fuel systems, install timing gears and timing belts, order accurate amounts of parts and supplies to maintain necessary inventory, rebuild and repair engines, remove and replace tires, shocks, struts, and brakes, repair and install radiators and water pumps...It goes on and on.”

“Yeah,” Daryl simply responded. 

“Says your a Master ASE certified technician.”

“Yeah.”

Denise sat back in her chair, put down the resume and picked up the cover letter he wanted help with. “So why are you applying to be a Records Manager at the local King’s County Police Department?”

Daryl responded with a simple shrug.

“There isn’t any shame in being a mechanic, Daryl. Is that what this is about?”

“No one sees me,” he murmured quietly.

“Who needs to see you?”

Daryl shrugged again. 

“Um… are you trying to change professions to pick up some chic?” Denise asked.

“No. That is absolutely NOT what is happening here,” Daryl insisted.

“Then what are you doing, man?”

Daryl slumped in his seat, realizing this wasn’t going to work. “It’s not a chic, okay.”

Denise burst into a smile. “So someone had a car into your shop to be worked on and you noticed _him_ and he didn’t notice you. And you think if you were wearing less car oil and more … hair gel and cologne, you might get noticed.”

Daryl sighed. “You think this is stupid.”

Denise had no control over the laugh that slipped out of her. “I actually think it’s adorable but can I maybe make some recommendations?”

“Sure. That’s why I’m here, ma’am. Uh, Denise.”

“Have you considered just asking him out next time he brings his car in?”

“Like this?! I’m covered in grease! And he’s… he’s all pretty and got this wavy hair and blue eyes and always looks perfect in his uniform that fits him perfect and he ain’t never got no speck a dirt on him anywhere. Got a rainbow bumper sticker on his car though so I know he bats for my team. Just gotta clean myself up or somethin’. Y’know?”

Denise grinned and nodded as she listened. “Uniform? What is he?”

“Cop. He don’t bring the cop car in though cause they take care of that at the station. He drives a Jeep. Y’know with that sticker.” He paused. “You know cause that sticker means-”

“I know what the sticker means, Daryl,” Denise said, then she folded up his resume and cover letter. “Okay. Well, I wouldn’t mentioned your work experience at ‘Eddie’s’ when you talk to him, but there’s no reason to think he’s not interested in you just because you work with your hands. Hell, to be honest, some people find that hot.”

“Pfft. I’m filthy. Like all the time. Grease in my hair. Oil all over my pants. That’s not hot. Do YOU think I’m hot?” Daryl asked exasperated.

“Fuck no. I’m gay!” she answered.

“Huh. Small world,” Daryl responded.

“Listen, Daryl. Typically I am a job coach. But you have a job. And I have no experience in being a relationship coach. But if you want my advice, which I am in no way qualified to give, I would just ask the guy out for coffee next time he comes in.”

“Huh. Interestin’. Well, I do _like_ working at the garage.”

Denise shook her head and handed him back his resume and cover letter. “Go back to work, Daryl.”

“Thanks for the advice, Ma’am,” he said with a lopsided grin. “If he says no, I’m coming back and lodging a complaint. Which means I’ll be asking you for coffee so you can listen to me lament my misfortune. I know a chic you’d be perfect for at this coffee place I hang at. She likes that nerdy glasses thing.”

“Um. Thank you?”

Daryl stood up, balled up his paperwork and tossed it in the trash. Before he opened the door he turned back. “What if he don’t like coffee?”

“He’s a cop. He likes coffee.”

“That’s stereotypin’. He might not.”

Denise pulled her purse out of a desk drawer and took out a five dollar bill. She slapped it on the desk. “I bet you five bucks he likes coffee. I expect to see you back here with my five dollars and a selfie of the two of you on your first date at Starbucks. Now get out of my office. I have actual real work to do.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really lame follow-up fluff. Unbeta'd and just for funsies.

Shit, maybe Denise was right. After all, some of them magazines Daryl’s looked at has them models half naked and working under cars or shit like that. Grease marks on their well defined muscles put there on purpose. Daryl kinda had muscles like some of them guys. Maybe Jeep Wrangler would like them. Daryl had torn the sleeves off of his mechanics overalls cause the more he studied his… welll his porn… the more he decided that feature might get some attention. Ain't no law ‘gainst wearin’ cologne just ‘cause he works in a garage. And maybe like… he could brush his hair.

Jeep Wrangler was on schedule for a drop off at noon that day, two weeks since Daryl put together that stupid resume. Vehicle was just in for a tire rotation. Axel would probably take it. Dick. He always took the easy shit. 

Right at noon Jeep Wrangler pulled into the shop and Daryl threatened them butterflies in his belly to quit that shit ‘fore he punches his own self in the stomach to stop ‘em. Axel come flyin’ up from the back thinkin’ he’s gonna get an easy job but Daryl turned to him quick “Dude your mom’s been tryin’ to call you. You best call her back. She’s soundin’ pissed.”

“Oh Goddamnit. I swear she breaks shit in that house on purpose just so I’ll come over and fix it,” he grumbled and pulled out his phone walkin’ away. The good news for him is… his mama ain’t been callin’, so at least he’ll be thankful for not havin’ to run out to Senoia after work. But the bad news is he’s gonna be stuck on the phone with her gabbin’ and he ain’t gettin’ his hands on this tire rotation.

The bell to the front door rang as Jeep walked in and Daryl cursed under his breath at Dale’s shitty hand-writing on the paperwork cause he ain’t been able to read the name even after all these visits.

“Hi, Jeep in for the tire rotation, right?” Daryl said. Shit. He shoulda led with the coffee. He shoulda commented on the sunny day or like small talk shit like how Daryl really liked that Jeep or how soft and shit his curls looked. Well, maybe not that last one. That should go after coffee.

“Yeah, I can’t remember the last time I did it but I think it’s due, um, Daryl.”

Daryl looked up and narrowed his eyes. “How you know my name was Daryl?” he asked sounding way more accusatory than he intended to. 

Jeep smiled all wide and pretty, full lips and bright eyes and pointed at the damn name tag on Daryl’s uniform.

“Aw shit. Yeah. Shame you ain’t wearin’ one cause Dale’s got shitty handwriting. Just been calling you Jeep Wrangler in my head all this time.” _What the fuck did he just say?_ “Shit I mean… not that I been calling yah anything in my head… just… it’s… Dale’s got terrible penmanship. That was my only point.”

“You can call me Rick,” Rick said battin’ them damn gorgeous eyelashes. 

“I like your bumper sticker,” Daryl said. “I don’t got one but I would. If like I … I mean… I am… like a fan of the… oh fuck,” Daryl slapped his hand up against his forehead. Christ, he was shit at this. 

“Well, hard to put one on a bike, right?”

“Yeah, how you know I got a bike?” 

Rick pointed out the window to his Triumph. “That’s yours, right? Just guessin’ from the crossbow on the back. That how you got those arms?”

Finally- one thing right! Tearing off his sleeves was getting him somewhere!

“Yeah. I… hunt. With the crossbow. Do you… like… to hunt?”

“Never been,” Rick said. Well, that was it. Guess it was over. A no go. He wasn’t interested. Fuck. Daryl just made a complete ass of himself. He was gonna go straight back to that Denise and get his five bucks and…

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout having a cup of coffee while I waited.” Rick asked.

“You like coffee?!” Daryl asked excitedly.

“Yeah, course.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry man. I ain’t good at small talk. You probably think I sound like a moron.”

“I think you sound adorable, actually. Gorgeous, too”

“But… but I’m dirty,” Daryl said as he motioned at his stained overalls.

Rick shrugged. “I like dirt.”

Was that a flirt? Was that a flirty kinda ‘maybe he’d want to have coffee together’’ kinda sign? Daryl wasn’t no good at readin’ signs like that but Rick had this sincerity and ease about him and it seemed like… like he really did want coffee. Like coffee with Daryl.

“Coffee. I mean… so you like it, huh?”

Rick couldn’t stop smilin’ so either he was likin’ Daryl or he was thinkin’ Daryl was a complete idiot. Daryl figured it was 50/50.

“I love coffee. Hate drinkin’ it alone though, Daryl.”

Before Daryl could respond Axel came out from the back. “She don’t even remember why she called. Christ, you see what I gotta deal with. You’re on lunch, Daryl. I’ll take the Jeep.” 

Rick’s eyes lit up. “So maybe I don’t have to have that coffee alone then?”

Daryl could literally feel the heat of a blush on his cheeks. “Shit, Daryl!” Axel exclaimed, “What a coincidence. Rick’s got one a’ them pro-gay bumper stickers and you’re gay. You should go, dude.”

Daryl turned and glared at Axel until he slowly backed away with his hands raised in surrender.

“Look Daryl, I can tell you’re… kinda not good at this…” Rick said.

“Yeah, sorry. I understand if you ain’t thirsty no more-”

“Daryl. Don’t be nervous. You don’t need to be. I like you. Check my records, man. Had my tires rotated three months ago. It don’t really even need it.”

“Then why are yah…”

Rick walked around the counter, put a hand on each side of Daryl’s face, real soft like. Tender. Gentle against Daryl’s rough stubble and oil smudged cheeks and kissed him softly, right on the lips. “I like you. I think you're cute and sexy and I’d like to get to know you better. Over coffee. Just wanted to be very clear about my intentions so your shyness don’t make you overthink or worry. Thought maybe this would make it a little clearer.”

“Yeah. Okay. Yeah. I’m… I’m much better at reading signs like that… for the record.”

Rick grinned. “Got it. I’ll remember that.”

Daryl grabbed his jacket, feeling a bit of confidence now. Rick’s lips were so soft and havin’ him that close was like openin’ a present at Christmas and findin’ a toy ‘stead of another pair a socks. 

“Can we go to this coffee house round the corner. I got a errand there,” Daryl suggested. Even though there was a bit of a chill, he just carried his coat ‘stead of puttin’ it on so’s Rick could admire his arms. 

When they got to the coffee shop, Rick ordered first and stepped aside. 

“Hey, Tara,” Daryl said to the woman who usually always waited on him. “How ya doin’ today?”

“Same shit, different day. I hate this job. I hate the half-cafe, double-mocha, extra foam, bullshit hipsters. And I want to quit."

“That’s what I thought,” Daryl responded, since it was nearly the same sentence she gave him every damn time he asked. 

“You know I got a friend can help you get your resume together.” Daryl scratched down Denise’s info on the back of a napkin. Then he took out a five dollar bill. “When you get there. Give her this for me, will yah? I owe her five bucks.”

“What was that all about,” Rick asked grinning as they sat at a table by the window.

“Rick, I may not seem it. But I’m a damn good match-maker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to top this one off. Back to work now on a Leedus fic and the Vietnam/PTSD fic that I've been working on with 1LostOne for like half a year! LOL!

**Author's Note:**

> Let's face it, I'm probably going to have to do a 2nd part to this. Denise deserves that five bucks.


End file.
